


you and I, let's make the headlines

by the_strangest_person



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anne Shirley Has a Temper, Arguing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gilbert Blythe is Whipped, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Pining, Renew Anne with an E, Shirbert, a lot of making out, anne is having a bad day, anne's hormones are out of control, basically a married couple, broken printer, co-editors in chief, gilbert tries to calm her down, its hot in here, my first attempt of a heated scene so be nice, newspaper club, paper jam - Freeform, some mentions of tough topics, things get heated up in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 10:48:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24968467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_strangest_person/pseuds/the_strangest_person
Summary: with a nearly overdue deadline and a broken printer, Anne didn't expect her day to get even worse, until she finds herself stuck in an empty newspaper room with her co-editor in chief Gilbert Blythe.oh, and he can't stop laughing at her.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 29
Kudos: 264





	you and I, let's make the headlines

**Author's Note:**

> so um - enjoy?

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert was seconds away from starting a particularly vicious, _albeit one-sided_ , fist fight with the printer.

The printer itself was notorious for its lack of paper, frequently broken buttons and for just being a general _piece of shit_. It was located in the north-west corner of the college, tucked away at the back of the newspaper room. Despite it merely sitting there like a stone, it was arguably the very _worst_ part of that small space where Anne and her friends spent so much of their time between classes. And the room had a _lot_ of problems. First of all, the lack of air-conditioning made it unbearable during the summer months. It trapped them in a hot box that was designed without windows, more of a storage cupboard than anything else, filled with squashed desks and computers that circulated more hot air around the room. They got by with unreliable plug-in fans (or spare sheets of paper as makeshift fans when desperate), struggling through the various heat waves to keep the students of their college well-informed and educated. After all, a monthly newspaper meant _monthly_ instalments.

As well as the useless printer, lack of fresh air and occasionally flickering lights - the room was often filled with overflowing levels of stress. When rushing out a last-minute issue or struggling to save an important document with no back-up copies, the newspaper team dwindled down to panicked souls that often relied on too much caffeine.

Despite its disadvantages, the room was filled with so many stories - personal or not.

It was filled with the many evenings that they had stayed late to meticulously edit and all of the hard work that they had put in while balancing their other classes. But it was also filled with the many afternoons that Ruby came in crying over being stood up, each of them comforting her with warm hugs until Moody quietly spoke up and asked her out on a date himself (receiving a bewildered look but an enthusiastic _yes_ ). And despite the memories, it was filled with so much _passion_. Anne could still remember walking into the abandoned newspaper room with her hands on her hips, looking around at the anxious faces around her with a fierce look in her eyes, knowing that she could make their voices heard. With Ruby's romantic flair, Moody's willingness to go along with any idea, Jane's sharp eye and Charlie's moral support (all overseen by Professor Stacey), they made a pretty good team. Her best friend Diana was a vital component to the newspaper for several months, but after a particularly heated article surrounding the importance of LGBTQ+ representation, her close-minded parents forced her to pull out of the extra-curricular and take up extra Piano lessons instead. After everything that they had been through together over the past year, Anne had grown to feel a certain fondness over the space that they occupied three times a week.

But in this particular moment on a Friday evening, after a long, stressful day - she wanted nothing more than to _murder_ the printer.

**_"YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!"_ **

She tried with her every effort to insistently click on the PRINT button on her computer for the _fifteenth_ time, even tried to replace every single drawer with the last of the fresh paper - but alas, it was jammed. After spending hours editing and rereading her article, eyes growing sore and fingers growing tired, she was ready to resort to physical measures.

She kicked the bottom of the printer, snapping at the machine, " _I swear to God-_ if you don't print my article in the next five seconds...I'll jam my fist in your draw and then we'll see how you like it!"

It made a small stuttering noise as if laughing at her and Anne gritted her teeth, whacking it even harder with her small fists, strands of red hair escaping her ponytail.

"I tell Miss Stacey to replace you every month and she tells me that it's just a silly issue that doesn't have to resort to any property damage but...look at you! _You're laughing at me, aren't you?_ I swear if I had an axe in my hands right now I would chop you up into little pieces and dump you right into a lake, and I wouldn't even care about the pollution it would cause! You _stupid piece of shit_ , can't you do your job for _once_ and _PRINT_ -"

A burst of laughter, real this time, comes from the desk next to hers.

If Anne was angry before, now she was positively _livid_. It spread through her veins like ice, colder and more dangerous than the thick, pure fire that coursed through her moments before. Instead of short bursts of steam, it swelled inside of her and set course to expand until the hands wrapped around her lungs could reach out and strangle anyone in their path. Her jaw started to grind inwards on itself, fists clenched painfully by her sides as she turned to glare murderously at the last member of the newspaper - and coincidentally her co-editor in chief.

Gilbert Blythe was a _5"9_ distraction with dark curls and unfairly long eyelashes. He was sat there in the cramped office the day that she arrived, watching with an intense gaze that turned her inside out as she introduced herself to everyone. A part of her knew, right there and then, that he was going to be trouble. Not only was he obscenely smart and dedicated, but he made it his life mission to get on her last nerve. He would pathetically flirt with her when she tried to concentrate, often came up with ideas and strategies that were better than hers, and the pair of them constantly drowned the space with their heated bickering. He was beautiful in a conventional way and although Anne did not consider herself a conventional girl, it did not stop her from daydreaming about shoving him against the wall and licking a stripe down his lean neck. She noticed that he looked at her with the same intensity from the day he first met her, glancing at her from his nearby desk and tapping his pen against his jaw to get her attention. She noticed the way that he rolled up the sleeves of his button down shirts when he arrived after class, undoing the top two buttons before taking a swig of his coffee. He was infuriatingly polite, patient with the occasional stupid question from Moody and after taking a trip to the vending machine down the hall, he always came back with extra snacks for everyone.

There were some things that she _didn't_ notice about Gilbert Blythe.

She didn't always notice how much he wanted to bring back an extra chocolate bar for her _alone_ , but shook his head and thought better of it, using his extra change for sugary snacks for everyone. She didn't notice that the way he stared after her longingly when Diana waited outside to give her a lift home, wishing that he wasn't so scared of getting rejected if he offered her a ride himself. And worst of all - she didn't know that his heart had been hers from the moment she walked into the newspaper room like she was meant to be there. She had a fire-like passion inside of her, and after hearing about her childhood of climbing trees to protest deforestation, he suspected that it had always been there. He wondered if she came out of the womb determined to turn the world upside down (for the better). Whatever it was that she was filled with, it filled him with feelings that he was too selfish to let go of, but too much of a coward to do anything about.

After several rounds of pointless competition as co-editors and painfully obvious attempts to grasp her attention, he had been victim to her sharp glare more times than he could count.

"You're laughing at me."

It came out in a cold matter-of-fact tone at first and he suspected that she wasn't going to allow him much room to deny it.

"N-No...I-", he tried his best to muffle his words through his closed fist, but another snort escaped him and suddenly he couldn't hold back his loud chuckles as he watched her face turn redder, _"...I'm not!"_

 _"You're laughing at me!"_ she snapped.

Gilbert tried to calm himself down, but his grin kept widening the longer that she spent cursing him to the depths of hell with a single look, "...Anne, I-"

"I should have known that you would have been like this!" she span back around to the printer, kicking it a few more times for good measure, "...you're such a childish asshole! This is really important to me, it's already nearly past the deadline and I've been here for hours while you laugh at my misfortune! What the fuck is wrong with-"

He tried to take in a deep breath, evening out his voice - "I'm not laughing at your-"

 _"Oh, it's fine!"_ she retorted, "...instead of offering to help me, you just sit there and watch me beat up this printer that has _one job_ -"

Gilbert wheezed a little, "...It's a little unfair, isn't it? Considering that the printer can't defend itself or fight back?"

"Why have you always got to be such a fucking smart-ass?"

This was the moment that a timid knock had them both turning towards the door, where Diana Barry was waiting with an armful of sheet music and an anxious expression on her face as she looked between them. She was twirling her keys around in her free hand and it took Anne a moment to remember why she was waiting outside of the room for her. She smacked a hand against her forehead, turning to the clock on the dark wall that was laughing at her in return, showing **7:06pm**. Diana gave Gilbert a cautious look before hesitantly speaking up, as if she was in church, "You ready to go?"

"I have to get this printed..." Anne groaned, glaring at the printer once more, "...I have been working on it for weeks and I refuse to let this stupid machine beat me!"

Gilbert spoke up quietly, "I can stay and give Anne a lift home."

He turned to glance at the redhead in question, expecting some form of protest or at least an eye roll at his offer, but her back was turned to him. In truth, she was too busy shoving her fingers into the printer in an effort to grab the paper that was jammed, hoping that she could pull it out to by hand. Her distraction was enough for Diana and she nodded at Gilbert gratefully, saluting him for good luck before turning on her heel to head home.

And then there were two.

Gilbert could hear the clock ticking by painfully fast and as he skittishly approached Anne at the printer, he felt like he was approaching a lion cage. He almost expected her to bare her teeth at him, snarling ferociously and warning him to keep his distance but it seemed as if the hot steam in her was evaporating into thin air. She kept her head hanging low, hands on either side of the printer that was making an obnoxious beeping noise to signify a paper jam. As he brought himself closer to her, she didn't move a muscle.

"Do you want me to take a look?" he offered quietly, putting a singular hand on the printer before it was immediately slapped off.

Anne scoffed, "You think you have the magic touch or something?"

"I just...wanted to help", he admitted feebly. "I'm sure if we work together, we will fix it in no time! It's only a paper jam and you should try not to get so upset over something-"

She let out a long groan, _"...there it is!"_

He frowned, "There's what?"

 _"You!"_ she exclaimed, squeezing her eyes shut and tilting her head up to the ceiling, "...you and your stupid level-headedness. I don't...u-understand it...how you are always so calm and logical, how you...you always know what to do. _It drives me crazy!"_

"You think _I'm_ level-headed?"

 _"This isn't a joke, Gilbert!"_ she turned to look at him, his face falling at how exhausted she looked, at how her eyes were stinging with tears of frustration, "...I have been working on this article for weeks, ever since Professor Stacey gave me the topic. She came to me in confidence and we discussed it for hours, strategising the best ways to educate the students without igniting any forms of protest or riots. The others thought it was too controversial...can you believe that? _Controversial!_ After everything that our society has fought for over the past centuries, after the weeks I spent researching this and educating myself to the best of my ability, my own friends are still willing to let it go by without at least trying to bring attention to it! I just...I expected more from everyone..."

Gilbert could remember the day that she spoke to the team, keeping her voice firm as she notified them that the next issue would be surrounding police brutality and oppression. He had felt nothing but a great deal of respect for her being so willing to tackle such a heavy yet relevant topic, but he had definitely noticed the others being harder to convince. It took a lot to get them on board and after he tried to gently talk them into the idea, he had looked up to find Anne glaring at him harsher than ever before at how easily he had changed everyone's minds. It made his shoulders slump to realize how blind he had been.

 _"I-I'm sorry..."_ he mumbled, "...I shouldn't have tried to put my foot in while you were trying to convince everyone."

She shook her head, voice tightening in her throat as she became choked up, "...It isn't about that...it's about it being another example of how these topics are so easily brushed under the rug. It's about our own college bringing riot police to peaceful protests and all of the different places in the world where people of different ethnicities, upbringings and social classes are oppressed and treated like _shit!"_

He felt like someone was taking a stapler to his heart, "Anne-"

"I t-tried so hard..." she covered her face with her hands, shaking her head as her voice wobbled, "...I must have edited this stupid article _a hundred times,_ asking Professor Stacey to read over it for me and give notes...I-I put my heart and soul into it and now this _worthless fucking printer_ is going to eat up all of my words and I-"

Gilbert enveloped her in his arms without hesitation, feeling her sink against him and let out a shuddering breath in the space between his neck and shoulder. For a few minutes they were just standing there in each other's embrace, silence filtering through the room as they both took in steady breaths to calm themselves. It took her a while, but her hands eventually drifted up to fist the thin material of his button-up shirt so that she could keep him closer. He absentmindedly let out gentle shushing sounds as if handling a newborn, rocking her in his arms and drawing different shapes into her shoulder blades with the tips of his fingers. She shook with anger but with the tenderness of his touch and the warmth of his breath in her hair, she could feel it leaking out of her and something softer took place inside of her heart. He wasn't afraid to press her close against him, willing to keep her there for as long as she would let him. After her breathing evened out and her grip on his shirt loosened a little, his lips parted and he started to whisper against her hairline.

"It _is_ important...", he moved his fingertips higher until they brushed the bare skin underneath her ponytail, "...don't let anyone convince you that it isn't...."

She whimpered against his neck, emotion seeping out of her, "Why don't they _get it?"_

Gilbert thought to himself for a moment, leaving gentle taps against the back of her neck like morse code to show her that they would always be on the same wavelength, "...A lot of people have trouble accepting that things like this happen, that they are still present today and that they will be for a long time. It doesn't always mean that they don't _care_ about it, sometimes they just don't know how they can even start to fix it."

"I just want to get this article published, Gil..." she muttered miserably, "...of all days that the printer decides to be useless, this is not the time."

He pulled away briefly, keeping his hands on her shoulders so that he could look down into her eyes, _"...I know, Anne-girl",_ he let the endearment slip out, "...but we can deal with a paper jam, okay? You just need to cool off for a bit so that you don't run yourself down...come sit down with me."

Anne watches him sit down on the carpeted floor opposite the printer, stretching his legs out in front of him before patting the space beside him. There was only a small amount of hesitation as she looked mournfully back at the printer failing to spit out her hard-work, before she gave in and joined him on the floor. They were hidden away in the corner of the newspaper room, the painfully fluorescent lights flickering above them as they sat in silence for a moment. Gilbert nudged her playfully and at her quizzical look, he pointed to her head and then tapped his shoulder with a soft smile. She let her head fall against his shoulder, feeling him breathe in the sweetness of her shampoo without shame. It didn't even take a look for her to sense his satisfied grin and she pinched his forearm gently, feeling strands of her hair fall across her cheeks.

 _"You're still an asshole..."_ she breathed against his shirt.

"Anne...", he tried to push past her stubborn nature, "...what is this _really_ about?"

"The printer is a fucking useless piece of-"

 _"No",_ he persisted, "...what's _really_ wrong?"

Right from the start, he had a profound ability to see right through her. He really shouldn't have known her as well as he did, not after how much time they spent bickering instead of holding a proper conversation. It was like he had a direct line to her heart, a short-cut to her soul, knowing with a single glance how she was feeling and what she was thinking of, before she even knew it herself. It infuriated her to be seen so easily and it infuriated her how much she wanted to stay there and sob into his shoulder, telling him all of her darkest secrets and greatest fears. Those pretty hazel eyes that scorched right through her, demanding to know more in the gentlest way possible.

"I guess..." she admitted sorrowfully, _"...I don't want to let people down."_

He frowned against her hair, "How could you ever-"

"I want so much to change...", she sighed, sinking deeper against his shoulder as if caving in on herself, "...I want to make this big difference in this morally fucked-up world and I-I just get so many ideas and goals that they run out of my brain before I can catch up to them. And I just... _hate it_ when things don't go according to plan."

Gilbert's voice was so soft that her eyes fluttered closed on their own accord, body still leaning against his, "...Do you know what I first noticed about you?"

"My hair?" she guessed.

He let out an endearing chuckle, _"...aside from that."_

"How much I talk?" she tried again.

Gilbert cut in before she could attempt to subtly insult herself further, "How _passionate_ you are. I remember you walking into this room...with your yellow raincoat and wet hair, looking around this tiny room as if it was The White House. For a moment I thought you were coming in with a presidential campaign-"

"You're such a-"

 _"I'm not kidding!"_ he protested, a dopey grin coming onto his face as he remembered that day, "...you were so intimidating. I thought lightning was going to strike down from the sky whenever you glared at me! Which was... _often_ , by the way."

Anne rolled her eyes.

"I mean it, Anne-girl...", he breathed, wishing he could shuffle and get even closer to feel her heartbeat against his ear, "...I have every faith that someday you will help to change the world. You've got a great start already with this newspaper and I already know that this article is going to be _unbelievable_. But...you need to stop to take a breath every so often, clear your mind so that people will be more willing to listen."

She grumbled miserably against his shirt, fingers reaching up to fiddle with the button closest to her, "...It's easy for _you_ to say! Everyone always listens to you...and the other's always take your side over mine."

He shook his head, "That's not true."

"It is."

 _"Well, I'm always on your side", he_ promised her, hoping that she would try to believe him, even once.

Anne lifted her head from his shoulder, protesting instantly - _"You laughed at me!"_

"You look cute when you're angry" Gilbert shrugged.

She assumed that he was teasing, continuing on boldly with raised eyebrows, "...you must think I'm cute pretty much all of the time."

_"I do."_

In the year that they had worked side by side as co-editors, they couldn't remember having such a _quiet_ moment. They were always bickering, teasing, flirting, competing, protesting, avoiding - but they had never been in a moment that felt quite so _still_. One moment might have been a strong contender, a Tuesday afternoon over four months ago, just another day of Ruby bursting into the office in tears after some idiot that had stood her up. But it was the day that Moody finally gained the courage to stumble through his words and half-jokingly suggest that he could take her out for a date and for a single moment - Anne and Gilbert had locked eyes across the room. It didn't seem important at the time, but looking back now as they sat beside each other in such close proximity - they both wondered why they had the instinct to find each other's eyes in that moment. But nothing had the power to trump this moment shared in an empty newspaper room. They didn't need to say anything or ask questions that would only waste gasps of breath, they just stared until Anne couldn't stop the curiosity that was fighting its way up her throat.

Her voice was a mere whisper, "Do you think we might have been friends if we didn't argue all of the time?"

Gilbert swallowed, _"...maybe."_

"Would you _want_ that?"

He could have answered it so easily, he could have used a single syllable or even nodded his head if his throat tightened up too much for words. But with her sitting there in the brown corduroy jacket that she once called her 'successful editor-in-chief' outfit, with a ponytail that was becoming looser with every movement, eyes searching his - every lie that would have been so _easy_...fell short. 

"I...um", he glanced down at her lips before darting back up to her wide eyes, _"...I might have wanted more than that."_

The printer churned to life in front of them, spitting out the crumpled piece of paper that had gotten stuck in there, but it was no surprise that they didn't notice. Not when it was all out in the open, everything that she had been desperate to hear for the entire year that she had known him, from the second she walked into the room and saw that tragically sharp jaw line. She was brought back to every time she had wanted to toss him against the wall, every time that she had dreamed of tracing his lips with her tongue to find out exactly what he tasted like. The words held heavy in the air and after he gave a half-sad shrug that told her what kind of an answer he had been expecting, Anne wanted nothing more than to shut him up in the way she had always dreamed.

The kiss wasn't delicate, for she was way too impatient for anything of the sort. It was diving into the deep end before dipping your toes into the shore, it was demanding, _certain_. One moment she was thinking about tracing the edge of his jaw with her thumb, and the next she was doing it. And it was no surprise that he was responding with equal favour, tilting his head to chase her lips, stealing the breath from her lungs. At first they were both content with that, dragging out slow kisses, coming together before falling apart again to gaze into each other's eyes. It was strangely intimate and it was the first time that Anne didn't want to shy away from his intense eyes, instead she wanted to fall deeper into the spell that they had twisted on her from the very start. With the slightly awkward angle, his eyelashes fluttered gently against her cheekbones, nose brushing against hers as if coaxing her into coming _closer, closer, closer._

And so she did.

In a sharp movement, Anne twisted her body towards him and swung her left thigh over his legs until she sunk down into his lap. Gilbert looked up at her with his lips half-parted in surprise, and perhaps a little bit of _awe,_ feeling her arms lock comfortably around his neck. His own hands came up to rest on her hips and she wanted to kiss the smirk off his face. She leaned down slightly, brushing her swollen lips against his _once, twice, three times_ , before pressing firmly and revelling in the groan that escaped the back of his throat. He was the first to trace her lips with his tongue and she tugged on his curls to show her distaste in him beating her to it. Gilbert chuckled against her lips and if wasn't the fucking _hottest_ thing she had ever heard, she might have dragged him to his feet and left him there hanging. But _oh_ , she wasn't done. She didn't know if she would ever get enough of _this_ : of making him gasp and groan as if she was the puppet master toying with him, of scratching her nails along his scalp, of his teeth tugging on her bottom lip in a way that made her lightheaded.

His hands that were once planted firmly on her hips, reached straight up and practically ripped away the hair tie so that the red waves cascaded down her back.

Once all of her hair was loose, his fingers tangled themselves within it, trying to pull her closer with each gentle tug. She was right there, a solid, warm weight on his thighs, practically wrapped around him like a vice but he still wanted _more_. After he had explored every inch of the flames that fell across her shoulders, his hands travelled downwards once more, desperately trying to rip her jacket off to reveal more of her freckle-dotted skin. Anne bit her lip boldly and helped him to take it off, tossing it behind her carelessly before pressing herself closer to him. A gasp tore from her lips as his fingers passed underneath the hem of her turtleneck, goose bumps contradicting his burning hot touch that travelled up the expanse of her back. She practically panted against his cheek, trying to catch her breath as he explored her bare skin, dancing his fingertips over and across the clasp of her bra. Anne was seconds away from begging him to unclasp it, but his mouth abandoned hers to find solace on the sensitive skin just below her ear. After feeling her chest push further into him, he took his time on the area, tracing it with tongue as if drawing mindless pictures just to drive her insane. Gilbert blew cool air onto the damp patch where his tongue had been, humming appreciatively at the prickles that swept down her neck and it was too much, way too much and way _too little_ at the same time.

With a frustrated huff, Anne grasped his chin firmly and tilted it upwards, uncovering the smooth skin of his neck as his head banged against the wall.

 _"Anne",_ he breathed out.

At first she traced her swollen lips down the length of his neck, keeping one hand firmly placed on his jaw so that he wouldn't move. He was practically shuddering against her in anticipation and her chest filled with warmth, knowing that he trusted her to touch him in such a way, that he _wanted_ her to touch him. At the first swipe of her tongue, Gilbert whined pathetically and curled his fingers through the belt loops on her jeans.

 _"Anne-girl",_ it was a plea, this time. _"...fuck."_

She continued, running her nose down his neck before unbuttoning the third button of his white shirt. There were no marks on his skin, he was not littered with freckles and moles like she was, apart from the dark freckle above the muscle that jutted out when he clenched his jaw. _That damn jaw._ She reached back up to give it a trail of soft kisses as she let her other hand run down his neck and chest, fisting the thin material once more. Anne was filled with the overwhelming need to mark his neck in her own way, pressing her lips down firmly until he groaned and pulled her hips tighter against his. He practically let out a whimper when she took his skin between her teeth, nibbling gently before soothing the area with her tongue. She sucked at his neck harder and heard him blow out a long breath, gently releasing his hold on her hips before grasping them again even tighter. There was a strange sense of satisfaction in making Gilbert, level-headed Gilbert Blythe, curse underneath his breath as if he couldn't help himself. Anne was fascinated with the skin of his neck and took it as a fun sort-of game, wanting to hear more curse words escape his polite lips. When she finally pulled away from the red mark on his neck, lips swollen and slightly sore, she met his eyes and he looked so _wrecked_ while he breathed shakily that she laughed.

"You...", she breathed as he dragged his teeth in a line from her bottom lip to her chin, "...y-you have no idea how long I've wanted this."

 _"Wanna bet?"_ he murmured, nipping at her skin.

She tried to fool herself into believing that she was in control, that she took the reins in this situation, but as he pressed kisses to every inch of skin that he could find, leaving scrape marks with his teeth - she was kidding herself. She could barely breathe and while her lungs burned for air, Anne only pressed herself closer and started to slowly roll her hips up against his. Gilbert's hips jerked forward in response and his eyes squeezed shut, wondering how the _fuck_ he had ended up in an empty newspaper room with this fire-haired wonder on his lap, allowed to kiss her and touch her and to have the same privilege in return. Anne rolled her hips into his a few more times, tugging on his hair in a way that made him want to flip them over and trace his lips down her entire body. He was pinned against the wall with her sitting on his lap, utterly helpless and grappling with his sanity.

His brain was running through his thoughts, singling out a very important detail - newspaper room, newspaper room, newspaper room-

 _"-newspaper room...",_ he blurted out between leaving kisses along her jaw, forcing himself to stop her hips from moving against his.

Anne paused, looking down at him with wild eyes and swollen lips, "What?"

 _"W-We can't..."_ he took in a quick gasping breath, reluctantly pulling himself away from her, _"...we're in the newspaper room."_

It was then that they both became aware of their surroundings, of the flickering lights above them and the door that was still open (not their best idea) and the printer that was currently spitting out several copies of Anne's article. She jumped up from his lap as if she was on fire, rushing over to the printer and letting out a relieved groan as she saw her words churning out of the machine. Gilbert fixed his shirt that had been half-pulled out of his pants, trying to run his fingers through the mess that he was sure his hair had become. As she felt him approaching her from behind, she exclaimed in a chirpy voice - _"It started working again!"_

 _"Really?"_ he mumbled, arms wrapping around her, lips pressing to the sensitive skin by her ear one last time, _"...I sure didn't notice."_

His warm hands around her filled her heart with not necessarily _new_ , but definitely _dangerous_ feelings. She leaned back against him, closing her eyes with a smile playing on her lips as they both listened to the whirring of the printer in front of them. It was spitting out her article with considerable effort, a pile of pages forming on the tray that would soon be added and published in their college newspaper, with her words making a considerable difference to the world around them. And she knew that she would do it all with Gilbert by her side, a warm and solid presence in her life that had been there from the first day, just waiting for her to catch on. They would stand together as a team, a force of equals that would slowly and cautiously set course to change the world for the better. But for now, they just swayed in each other's embrace, caught up in this aftermath of this heated exchange with dopey grins on their faces and sparkling eyes that wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

She could feel him smiling against her neck, "You want me to help you finish this all up?"

_"You better."_

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on a whim because I was struggling with writing my other modern AU fic (check that out if you haven't already) and I just thought it was a funny and cute idea. This is also my first attempt at semi-smut or basically a heated make out, so any feedback or tips would really be appreciated because I am hoping to become more confident in it and involve it in some other ideas I have planned. 
> 
> Your comments always make my day and I basically don't know what I did to deserve such sweet readers, but I always appreciate you and I hope you enjoyed this random thing! It would mean a lot to me if you checked out my other stories or one shots, I'm hoping to have more coming soon :)
> 
> \- jodie
> 
> \--social media --
> 
> twitter : @anotherdorklol  
> tumblr : @the-strangest-person  
> instagram : @anotherdorklol


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